Do You Remember
by Kopykat Kakashi
Summary: As Rin lies close to death, she reminisces about her life and relationship with Kakashi. New: Our Fathers
1. The Mission

_Summary: Rin's story, told as if she's talking to Kakashi._

_Notes: Obito and Rin graduated from the academy at age nine and became chuunin at eleven. Kakashi graduated from the academy at five years old and became chuunin at six, so he probably entered the academy at four. Presently, students start at about eight. Don't know if four was typical in those days or maybe Kakashi just got a head start, but for this story students start at four which is not unreasonable since pre-kindergarten kids are about four and in those days of war, they needed more recruits. But I'm not good at writing for four year olds, and four-year-old dialogue is pretty limiting, so the kids in this story will sound older, more like eight-12._

_Funeno Daikoku was the sensei talking to Sasuke's father._

_Motomori Kaori is based on Kuchiki Kaori, the ninja nurse from my other story. Kaori is a canon character and was Sasuke's nurse while he was in the hospital after the preliminary third chuunin exam._

_Thoughts: Do they have alphabetical order in Japanese? _

-…-…-…-

_**Do You Remember**_

**_The Mission_**

In the golden twilight, the Leaf platoon stealthily made their way through enemy territory. Only someone looking for them, and staring directly at them, could have possibly noticed the five barely there figures crouching low to the ground. Only the slight refraction of the light revealed the imperfections in their camouflage techniques. Their work was nearly done. Soon they'd be heading back to the luscious green forests of Konoha, away from these rocky quarries where even weeds refused to grow.

The team of five, four fighters and a medic-nin, had been on a surveillance mission for weeks, trying to map out and decipher the enemy's troop movements. Were they advancing, regrouping, withdrawing, or feigning withdrawal? Tensions were coming to a head between Fire Country and Thunder Country; the Hokage felt sure the current tenuous truce was bound to break. All out war or peace, which would they choose?

With the setting of the sun came welcome relief from the heat. The weather had been dry all this time. Static electricity crackled in the air. Any water jutsu expert, even someone as talented as the Second Hokage, would have been hard pressed to perform a low level water jutsu just to fill a teaspoon with water. But there were hidden streams in the mountains of Thunder Country that the Leaf shinobi used to refill their canteens. And there were animals that peeked out at night, meeting sudden death by a quick kunai or shuriken, that the Leaf shinobi used for nourishment after their rations had run out.

They had been lucky so far, but as any hardened shinobi knows, the better luck you have now, the worst luck it will be when bad luck finds you.

And now the enemy had found them.

Kunai clashed and sparked in the ion charged air. Shadows in the twilight merged and disengaged and merged again. Hands flashed signs and forms changed from human to animal to inanimate objects. A hundred movements within seconds, indiscernible to the normal viewer.

One of the figures hung back, allowing its comrades to fight. Despite the urge to join the battle, the cardinal rule for a medic-nin was to save yourself. If you could not, how could you save your comrades if they're injured? With that mantra ingrained in her, she stayed back, but threw her shuriken to deflect the enemy's missiles and called out warnings whenever possible.

Five Cloud shinobi against the five of them, a fair fight even without her participation - Kakashi was there and with his sharingan he counted as two.

Then a preternatural mist fell upon the battlefield. _'A Cloud jutsu!'_ Rin looked around to see who had summoned it and to determine the type of cloud. It was not a poisonous one - the Cloud shinobi were not wearing masks. Nor was it a corrosive cloud – they were not wearing special protective clothing, just their normal gray robes. She deduced its purpose was to obscure the battlefield, which meant they thought they would have the advantage if the Leaf shinobi could not see. She almost laughed. Kakashi and his nin dogs did not need to see to find their adversaries.

Her amusement was cut short by a sudden pain in her calf. She looked down to find a kunai cut on her leg; then leaped back from the figure emerging from the ground. "Watch out, there're more of them from below!" she called to her team.

She deflected another kunai with one of her own. Then she stumbled back. There was something wrong. The cut was shallow, barely bleeding, but it burned as if she had been hit by a fireball.

Poison. The kunai had been dipped in poison. She fell to her knees, grasping at her hip pack with the hypodermic needles full of anti-venom. "Careful, their weapons are poisoned!" she warned as she plunged the tip into her leg, near the wound. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out. The burning sensation was amplified tenfold when the antidote collided with the poison. She nearly passed out, but he appeared by her side, supporting her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concern dripped over his words, though behind his mask, his expression was inscrutable.

"I'm fine, really. Get back to the fight," she ordered with a weak smile.

Kakashi glanced back at the battle. He had already taken out the one who had hurt her, and two others, but there were more emerging from the ground. '_She'll be fine_,' he told himself - she had already taken the anti-poison. "I'll be back," he promised. He had to return to the battle, end it, and return to her. Despite his fatigue, he split himself and left a kage bunshin to guard her while he rejoined the fray.

The Leaf shinobi were victorious, but a few of the enemy escaped and had to be stopped from warning anyone else. Rin's comrades followed, leaving her behind.

The clone lifted her slight form in his arms, cradling her like a new bride. "I'll take you someplace safe." He carried her away from the battlefield to the small jutsu created cave they had been using as their base. He looked back at the retreating figures in the distance, wondering how long it would be before he was dispelled, then looked back at his charge.

Rin lay on a worn blanket spread out on the hard ground. She had already cleaned and bandaged her own wound. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed, and her breathing shallow.

"How are you doing? Is the antidote working? If not…" If not, he didn't know what they'd do. Rin was the medic-nin. Although Kakashi knew some healing techniques, he would not be able to develop a new antidote in time.

She opened her eyes and smiled up at the clone. "I'm fine. Don't worry. The antidote is kicking in. Sometimes you need to feel worse to feel better." She had never been able to perform the kage bunshin technique and wondered what it was like to be split into two. '_Kage bunshin, such an intimate technique. To be more than one person and yet still be the same. Is he the same? The exact, exact same? He looks the same as the real Kakashi, same wild white hair, same dark gray eyes, same creases in his forehead when he frowns, which is all too often. Does he feel the same? Well, I think I love him, just the same._' She closed her eyes again, but her smile remained.

-…-…-…-


	2. When We Met

_**When We Met**_

Do you remember our first day at the Shinobi Academy?

I arrived late after having slept through the alarm, again. I hated waking up early. If there had been a religion against waking up before 10AM I would have gladly joined it. I vaguely recalled having hit the snooze button on my pink kitty clock, but either it didn't work or I had accidentally, or purposely, turned it off. It wasn't until my mother called me down for breakfast did I realize I was going to be late to my first day of school.

Luckily, I had my clothes set out from the night before: a new deep violet tunic to compliment the clan's stripes tattooed on my cheeks, and black leggings. I did not have time to do much with my hair but to give it a few quick strokes of the brush. Back then my hair was straight and not terribly long, making it manageable, but in my hurry, a few tangled strands were roughly pulled from my scalp. Downstairs my mother had set the table with a full breakfast: rice, miso soup, a small broiled salted salmon filet, some pickled vegetables, steamed eggs, and natto. I hated natto and I still do. Why couldn't she ever remember how much I hated it? It was my father who liked it. I just drank the soup, then headed out the door with my backpack.

We lived about half a mile from the academy. A quick walk through the village square would have taken me about fifteen minutes, but I didn't have fifteen minutes that day. I ran, pumping my short little four-year-old legs as quickly as possible, rushing past shopkeepers sweeping the front of their stores (I nearly knocked over several stands), mothers out with their babies for a morning walk (I barely dodged the strollers), old men out walking their dogs (I might have stepped in something), and others on their way to work.

I arrived at the academy barely able to breathe. Then I had to find my way to the assigned room, which wasn't too hard as the rooms were luckily numbered in logical order. I did not know much kanji, but I knew my numbers. I ran down the hall, spotted room 110 and headed toward the entrance.

I did not see the boy running from the other direction. We crashed at full speed and I found myself ungracefully sitting on the floor with my tunic's skirt riding high up and my legs splayed. I quickly recovered, stood up, and straightened my clothes before apologizing.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" the boy said from the ground. He rubbed his head and glared up at me. He was a stout boy with black spiky hair and black eyes, dressed in a midnight blue zippered jacket with matching pants.

"S…sorry," I stammered again, even though it was as much his fault as mine. I was never good with confrontations. I did not like him or his tone.

Then his attitude completely turned around. "Oh no, it was my fault. I'm the one who should be sorry," he said as he got up. He stood aside and gestured for me to enter first. He was even blushing a bit.

The majority of the class had already taken their seats. I recognized many from the playground and around the village. Some of the kids apparently knew each other, too, and were already talking amongst themselves. I shyly made my way to an empty seat in the back.

I found myself sitting next to a slender boy with wild white-gray hair that stood up at a slant. You did not bother to glance over as I sat down. The boy who had entered with me sat down to my left with a loud creak and plopped his books down noisily. You looked up with a frown. Your gray eyebrows knitted crossly. Then you returned your attention to your book without a word.

That moment allowed me a look at your face. Unlike the uncouth boy to my left, you were quiet with pale skin, gray eyes, and fine features. I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but did not get out the first syllable before the other boy interrupted.

"Hi, I'm Uchiha Obito. That's U-chi-ha, as in the great Uchiha clan, as in the Konoha Police," the boy who crashed into me proclaimed loudly.

"Er, nice to meet you. I'm Mihashi Rin," I replied. Then I turned back to you and said, "And you are…?"

You said nothing at first then you seemed to sighed, then said curtly, "Hatake Kakashi."

I smiled at you and tried again to engage you, while ignoring Obito. "The first day is so exciting. Isn't it?" That was rather a hypocritical statement from me. I was not excited at all about starting classes at the Shinobi Academy. I had no desire to be a shinobi, but my parents were shinobi and their parents before them and their parents before them. If anything, I was terrified. Pain was not my thing, and my father had not returned home for months.

You did not seem to hear me or maybe you chose to ignore me. Instead, Obito chimed in, "Yes, it sure is! I plan to be the best shinobi ever, and then Hokage!"

The last comment induced a snicker from you.

"Are you laughing at me? Me, the very soon to be great Uchiha Obito of the reknown Uchiha clan!"

"If you're the best that clan has to offer, then it's fallen very, very low. Underground. With the blind naked mole rats."

"How dare you insult my clan!" Obito rose up from his seat.

"You're the insult," you said coolly and turned away.

"Why you…"

I did not like being in the middle of an argument. I didn't understand what you two were arguing about. Who were the Uchiha? Why were you so annoyed? Sure Obito seemed to be rather obnoxious, but he also seemed interesting and full of excitement. "Er, class is about to start." It was my first attempt, of very, very many, at mediation between you two.

Funeno Daikoku sensei called out our names and we were forced to change our seats according to his seating plan. Obito ended up staying in the back of the room. I was forced a few rows forward and ended up sitting next to a boy with bowl cut hair and thick black eyebrows who introduced himself as Maito Gai. He was missing most of his front teeth, but that didn't stop him from smiling broadly. His short green robe did not match his purple shorts. The color combination gave me a headache when I stared at him too long. When I think of him now, so much has changed and so much else has remained the same.

But at the time, I wondered for a while if there was anyone there who was normal like me.

You were seated in front of me. I was a bit disappointed. Even though you weren't friendly, I thought you were sort of cool and it would have been nice to sit next to you. But at least I was no longer stuck between you and Obito. If the two of you had sat near each other, well, even calligraphy brushes can be lethal weapons.

To my left was a pretty girl with long auburn hair, a shade redder and darker than mine, and several inches longer. Her hair was neatly parted in the middle and pinned back symmetrically with green clips in the shape of Konoha's leaf symbol. She smiled at me and said her name was Motomori Kaori. She wore a long sleeve smooth white silk blouse, and a knee length black skirt. Something about her perfect presence made me feel inadequate, but I was glad to have a girl to talk to. We were at the end of the row so no one sat on her other side.

Daikoku sensei was a large, fat, affable man with fuzz on his chin. I think he was trying to grow a beard; he looked fairly young. Not surprising, since the older shinobi were away on missions, like my father. After the seating arrangements were done he called the class to order.

The class proceeded with the usual introductions. We were each asked to state our names, our interests, and our goals. There were 28 students and as I was near the middle, I had time to think about my answers, but I did try to pay attention to what a few of the other students said.

Now I only remember what you, Obito, Gai, and Kaori said. Oh, and myself, of course. Obito made the same speech he did before about becoming hokage. Many others also aspired to become hokage. Gai was rather timid and he mumbled something about working hard and doing his best. Kaori bluntly stated she was forced to come and would rather be home playing with her dolls. I said I just wanted to make my parents proud. But you, I remember how self assured you were, how determined and forceful. You said you wanted to become a great shinobi like your father and protect Konoha and Fire Country.

There was a war back then, too. I barely remember a time when there wasn't. I hadn't seen my father for months and was always in fear that my mother would be called to service. At our age, most of us just had vague ideas of what war was. Those who lost family knew it better, as something horrible that took away loved ones forever. But you were proud and unafraid, even though you had already lost your mother as I later learned.

Daikoku sensei then spoke about what we'll be learning as shinobi. There was the basic skills everyone had to learn first, which included reading, writing, and arithmetic. Ninja skills were to be learned later, after we studied Konoha's history, the First Hokage's principles, and current events.

You raised your hand and even before sensei called on you, you protested. "I already know Konoha's history, Shodaime's principles, and what's going on in the war. My father has taught me all that. I can already do several jutsu. Can't I progress to the more advance class?"

Sensei stared at you and frowned. "You're White F…I mean Hatake Sakumo's son, aren't you? Yes, I've been war…I heard about you. Being a ninja is not just jutsu and history and principles. You'll need to work with others. You need to interact with your peers. You still have plenty to learn."

You were not happy with his response. Even sitting behind you I could see your back and shoulders tense. You spoke up again, "What can I possibly learn from these babies?"

That was it. That was how you immediately alienated the rest of the class.

Murmurs rose from all around: _Jerk. Show-off. Bastard._

Gai, next to me, said nothing, but stared at you with what seemed like admiration.

Kaori stifled her laughter, but I heard a few snorts escape from her lips. "Typical," she muttered.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He's a prodigy. He thinks he's too good for the rest of us." She shook her head as if she knew all about you.

Sensei told the class to settle down and told you he'd discuss things with you later. You said nothing the rest of the morning while the rest of us struggled with simple Kanji.

When recess and lunch time came, I remember you standing by the door to the yard, all alone. You held your head high, as if you didn't care about anything around you. The other children were running around the yard, playing tag. I was too, but I chanced to look your way. You glanced at us briefly, then looked away, as if our games were too immature for you.

Sensei came over and you spoke seriousIy to him. He laughed as if he wasn't taking you seriously at all. He ruffled your already messy hair and walked away. You were left alone again. You stared at us for a moment. I think you wanted to join us. I wanted to ask you, but I was too shy. I hoped that someone else would call you over to play, but you stood alone throughout recess. I felt sorry for you. No, it was more than that.

That was when I fell in love with you.

-…-…-…-


	3. While You Were With Us

_**While You Were With Us**_

Do you remember when you finally decided to join us?

The next morning passed with you being bored out of your mind. From behind you I could hear you sigh and see your shoulders heave each time sensei asked a question that no one could answer. Then you would raise your hand and brusquely give the correct response, which did not elevate your popularity with the rest of the class.

You knew all the katakana and simple kanji, and could read aloud smoothly without hesitation. I wondered why sensei would not advance you to the next level class. You would have been better off and so would the rest of us. I admit sadly that you made us feel so inferior. My love and admiration for you was tinged with envy. Why couldn't I have been born a prodigy? My parents would have been so proud. They would've bragged to everyone around them and handed out cigars with prodigy announcements, instead of trying to make up excuses for my clumsiness and naiveté.

During recess, you worked on your jutsu in a corner of the yard, away from the rest of us. You were already able to do bunshin, with two clones, and henge fairly well, even if the results were just midget versions of sensei and the Hokage. Several of us saw your achievements and came closer to watch. Gai stared intensely, as if mesmerized.

Obito, too, was impressed, though he tried to hide it. "That's no big deal," he scoffed.

This time you did not bother to reply. You transformed into Obito… and mooned him.

The audience laughed hysterically. I couldn't help but giggle, too.

Obito's face turned redder than pickled beets. "Bastard!" he yelled as he stepped toward you.

The crowd gasped at the use of foul language by a four year old, though many had uttered far worse phrases, but never in front of a teacher.

Sensei suddenly appeared, grabbed Obito's collar and stopped him from jumping on you. "That's enough you two. Kakashi, come with me," he said strictly. He did not sound amused, but there was a twinkle in his eyes even as he led you away.

Obito did not follow, but I heard him mutter, "My butt doesn't look like that."

The next day at recess, more of us decided to forego the fun and games and instead watch you train, hoping to pick up some tips. This time, instead of ignoring us, you addressed us like a class.

"Here are some basic jutsu you'll be learning first," you announced, pacing your corner of the yard as if giving an important lecture.

Despite the incident from yesterday, Obito stood behind me, wanting to learn, yet resentful of your talent. Gai stood in front, taking it all in with his inquisitive eyes. Kaori stood next to me. She was not one to play with the other kids either. She usually read a book during recess, but after the commotion yesterday, she now joined the spectators.

"This is the bunshin jutsu," you said as one Kakashi. "I can make two to three clones right now, but in time I should be able to do more," you said as triplets in unison.

Ooo's and ah's rose from the crowd.

"This is the henge jutsu," you said as one normal Kakashi. "I can transform to any human about my size, but I still need to work on transforming to larger and smaller figures," you said as the First Hokage, albeit two feet shorter.

"How'd you do that?" asked Gai, voicing the thought in all our minds.

You slowly showed us the katas used to perform the jutsu. "It takes a lot of hard work, practice and talent." You emphasized the last word as you looked at Obito, who surprisingly said nothing. Then you explained chakra and the ratios of spiritual and physical chakra, and the different types of element techniques for higher level jutsu. I was trying my best to absorb it all, but at that age, my memory for jutsu was like a ripped sieve.

There were more ooo's and ah's from the audience, but Obito remained stubbornly silent, refusing to acknowledge your genius.

"Can you show m…I mean, us how to do it?" asked Gai.

But before you could answer, sensei stepped in again. "No, Kakashi, it's too dangerous. These kids are not ready yet. They're too young…"

"They're the same age as I am!"

"You're different. You can't expect them to have the same ability. If the jutsu goes wrong…"

"If I'm different, then promote me!"

"Kakashi, come with me," sensei said, and again you followed his bulky form back into the classroom for a private talk.

Although I was not excited about getting up early and going to school every morning, now I had something to look forward to. What would you do at the next recess?

You showed us your weapons. Most of us had already seen kunai and shuriken, but we were normally not allowed to touch them. You passed several around like candy, but you held onto your tanto.

The objects felt sharply cold in my hands and they were heavier than they looked. I carefully touched the tip of the kunai and felt the sharp point. The shuriken was prettier, I thought, shaped like a four pointed spinning star. Then I passed the shuriken and kunai to Gai, who made jabbing motions with the kunai, pretending to fight an invisible enemy. Obito also held one of each. The boys among us began to throw them at the side of the building since there were no targets set up in the yard.

To the remaining students, you gave a lecture. "Shuriken don't normally kill, but they can injure your opponent. They're best used as a distraction. Kunai are more flexible. They can be thrown or used for hand-to-hand combat. They're good for anything from gutting or scaling a fish to gutting or flaying your oppon…"

"What do you think you're doing!" Sensei was much more upset this time. Before he could say another word, a stray shuriken nearly took off the fuzz on his chin, but he caught it with his left hand. I think it was Obito who threw it.

"Weapons aren't allowed in this class!" Sensei confiscated all the weapons then asked you again to follow him back to the classroom.

"That was fun." Gai smiled broadly at me, showing all the gaps between his teeth.

"I've got a whole set of those at home," boasted Obito.

I wondered if that was true. He seemed to be just as absorbed with the weapons as everyone else. But if he was from a great ninja clan, he probably did have a set. Maybe he just wasn't allowed to use them.

The afternoon dragged on with lessons on the Konoha community and its citizens and services – as if we didn't know about shopkeepers, farmers, medics, and shinobi roles. I saw Gai draw kunai and shuriken in his notebook instead of listening to the lecture while Kaori drew pictures of pretty girls with big eyes. Having no artistic talent, I found myself drifting off. Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of another exciting day at the Shinobi Academy, but not before we got our homework assignment: draw a map from home to school, indicating landmarks, buildings and whatever else we wanted to add.

When I got home I told my mother about your antics. "That's White Fang's son for you." She laughed and shook her head. I thought she would be more disapproving. I knew I would have been punished if it were me.

"White Fang?" The name sounded familiar, but again my memory failed me.

"Hatake Sakumo, your father's captain," she explained. "Don't you remember anything I tell you?" She sighed and handed me the dishes to set up for dinner, just the two of us.

"Oh, yes, I forgot." Actually, I didn't remember at all. I may have looked like my mother, but I didn't have her acute mind.

"We were all in the Academy together." She smiled at the memory. "Don't tell your father, I had a bit of a crush on him, but he didn't look twice at me. Well, things worked for the better, right? Now I have you." She gave me a rare hug and I wondered what she was really thinking.

"We haven't heard from Dad in a while," I ventured to say.

"Don't worry. His rotation will be ending in a few weeks. And considering he's under one of the best jounin, I'm not worried."

I wondered again if that was really true. We hadn't received a message by hawk in a long time. Dad was usually pretty good about sending letters home every week or two. In fact, no one had heard from his platoon in a while.

But I was young and easily distracted. Instead of worrying about my father, I thought only of you.

At the next recess, you took out some slips of paper with black squiggles on them. I couldn't tell whether it was calligraphy or art or just random marks.

"These are explosive tags," you explained. "You can use these in traps or attach them to a kunai…"

"Ooo, can we set one off?" Gai asked eagerly.

You took one of the tags and stuck it on a tree. "Stand back," you warned as you performed a seal.

A loud bang followed by the sound of splintering wood, then the whole tree bent over.

As expected, sensei came rushing over, his big belly jiggling, his face all red and puffy. "This is it Kakashi! I can't leave you unsupervised, can I? Let's be clear on this. No ninja techniques. No weapons of any sort. No ninja accessories. No food pills, no blood pills, no soldier pills, no shinobi rations, no swords or knives or clubs or flash bombs. No firecrackers or fireworks, nothing that explodes, nothing related to ninja at all, period. Nothing potentially dangerous, period. We're just here to learn the very basics. Think civilian for now!" He ordered everyone back into class.

Kaori shook her head as we entered the classroom. "That Kakashi, what does he think he's doing? All he's doing is making sensei mad. He should just obey sensei and follow the rules."

I thought hard about what she said. What were you trying to do? Liven up the class maybe?

The afternoon continued with more sums and subtraction of various fruits and vegetables, as if food could possibly make math more interesting. I saw Gai drawing explosions in his note book and Kaori doodling flowers in hers. In front, I saw you writing something that looked like a list. I couldn't make out what it was, but it definitely wasn't math.

At the end of class, everyone hurried out the door, as if chased by a rabid boar, while I lingered just long enough to walk out with you.

"Kakashi-kun, do you mind if I ask… I mean, why do you do the things you do during recess, even after sensei spoke to you so many times?"

"I'm winning," you told me.

"Winning? You mean like a contest?"

"Yes, a contest of wills. Sensei will break soon." You smiled mischievously, confidently. It was the first time I saw you smile.

"Break down? And then what?"

"Then I'll be gone."

"Is it that bad to be with us?" The idea that I would have to endure class without you, disturbed me greatly.

"I'm suffocating here," you said, then brusquely walked past me, pushing through the crowd and out the door.

I walked slowly and sadly home, thinking about your frustration with the rest of us. I knew I was being selfish. I did not want you to leave, but I also knew it would be better for everyone if you did. The class moral was low and your attempts during recess could not compensate for it.

When I arrived home, mom was not there. I took out my homework, counted my fingers and toes, and sighed. How could I keep up with you? Even if you were to stay with us, you saw us as babies, inferior to you. How could I make you see me in a different light? But there was nothing I could do - I knew my limits. I was no prodigy. I was so far from you, you would need a telescope to see me.

Sensei seemed to relent a bit. The next morning we had a break from reading, writing, and arithmetic. He taught us how to make origami shuriken. Or at least he tried to teach us. Mine looked rather indescript. Kaori's was perfect as expected. Gai's didn't look much better than mine, but he force folded it into shape and taped it so that it was recognizable as a shuriken. You didn't bother to make a single fold.

Despite the mostly poor attempts, the class reveled in having paper weapons. Sensei soon regretted his hospitable act as paper shuriken whizzed across the room and at his head from all directions. Some were purposely thrown at your back. I suspected it was Obito and a few other boys who sat near him, but you pretended not to notice. Sensei called recess early, hoping we'd take out our energy in the yard.

As soon as sensei left us alone, probably to relax with a nice cup of tea laced with kava kava, you called all of us together.

"Hey, anyone want to play Protect Kikyo's Pass? Half of you are Leaf shinobi, the other half are Stone shinobi. The scroll bearer has to cross enemy territory to score a point. Opponents have to tackle the one carrying the scroll. The rest of his team has to protect him from being tackled." You proceeded to explain the rules and positions. Most of the boys and a few of the girls listened with interest.

It sounded like a rough game. I sat down with Kaori who had absolutely no interest in running around and getting tackled like a bunch of "wild pack animals" as she put it.

Obito wandered over, stood near us, and muttered, "Just look at that. Just who does he think he is, acting like he's in charge. I should report him to sensei right now." But he didn't. Obito did not take part in the game, but he did not take his eyes off of you either.

We watched as Gai, selected by you to be the first scroll bearer, ran and dodged frantically as several larger boys tried to trip him and jump him. His bangs flopped, his broken smile permanent fixed to his face, even when he was finally brought down just a foot away from the goal line. I was worried that the rest of his teeth would be knocked out. As it was, he escaped with just some bruises and scrapes. The next scroll bearer was not so lucky.

You were acting as referee and coach, calling out plays and stratagems. I doubt if any of the players realized you were coordinating an attack. The Hyuuga boy was crushed under a pile of bodies. We had not yet learned how to fall properly. He broke his leg and his painful howl reached sensei's ears.

This time, sensei's face was pale and his voice low and deadly serious. "Kakashi, the playground is no place for a battlefield." He proceeded to apply first aid to… Isn't strange… I can't remember his name anymore. He was one of the first of us who passed on... Sensei then called the medics to take him to the hospital for further treatment.

Afternoon class was uncomfortably still. Sensei had us work in silence while he filled out a pile of paperwork for the accident report. He dismissed us abruptly before time was up - all except you. It was the last day of our first week of class and there was no class the next day.

I spent the time off not studying or reading or doing anything academic or shinobi related. I played with my neglected stuffed animals and dolls. And I worried about what would happen to you. Sensei was more than just mad. Later I learned the Hyuuga boy was someone special and his family filed a complaint against him.

You did not return to our class after that day. I did not talk to you again for years, though I had glimpses of you as you passed by to attend the advanced classes. I heard you graduated the academy within a year and joined the ranks at war. I worried about you, wondering if I'd ever see you again. So many of us who left to seek glory never returned.

I never forgot you, though I can't say I thought about you everyday. When you're young, events easily pass as new ones take importance. But once in a while I wondered what happened to you. Sometimes I heard your name mentioned around the village and I would ask for news. The adults surmised my feelings and were happy to give me reports of your progress.

Maybe love is the wrong word; after all, what does a child of four or five know about love, except for that of her family? But I felt you were special, different, someone I would remember fondly forever.

-…-…-…-

_Next: Our Team_


	4. Our Fathers

_Author's Notes: Sorry it's taken so long for another chapter but I am working on this albeit very slowly. I was going to write a chapter about the team but decided there's stuff that happened in the interim that I wanted to address._

_**Our Fathers**_

Do you remember meeting my father? He was a large man of average looks and above average skill. His hair was darker than mine, but thick and bushy, flowing around his face like a mane. With his cheeks tattooed, he looked scarier than he actually was. He mentioned meeting you when you were made a chuunin. He told me how he attended the perfunctory ceremony, during a lull in the war, where you stood with men and women more than three times your size and age. You stood as straight as you could, as if that could mitigate the great disparity.

He wondered why you wore a mask at your age. Your father, like a few other shinobi, did wear a mask, but only during missions. Were you emulating your father? Or was it because the adults liked to pinch your cheeks? Father laughed at that explanation. He always liked to pinch both my cheeks simultaneously, along the tattooed stripes I received when I turned three.

He told me how some others there murmured they wouldn't want you on their team. Who wanted to take orders from a kid barely out of diapers? But my father defended you. He reminded them how Sandaime was chosen to be the next Hokage before he hit puberty. There were quiet snickers at the thought of the old man ever being young. He then reminded them that you would be on Minato-sensei's team.

Minato-sensei, who was in the running to be the next Hokage at the time, was barely old enough to enter the local bar. He would be chosen over any one of the three sannin, even Orochimaru. The critics became serious, even shuddered at that infamous name. No one wanted Orochimaru as the next Hokage, much less as their platoon leader. His missions were always successful, but few of his comrades ever came back in one piece. Now the thought of having a vertically and age challenged superior no longer seemed so bad.

Did you know what they thought of you? That mixture of admiration and envy even among adults, I thought only existed in our young peers. Did you care? Apparently not, father told me, as you walked proudly to receive your chuunin vest, customized for your petite size. Your father introduced him to you and you shook hands. My father patted you on the head and said how he was looking forward to great things from you. You glared at him without a word, but nodded your head in acknowledgement of his words.

"A pint sized cocky little brat" was how he described you. Of course, he added how you were a genius and how you could already do jutsu that veteran chuunin could not. He also mentioned to me, as casually as he could, that I needed to work harder. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. My grades at the Academy were average at best. He never voiced it, but I suspected he had always wanted a son, a genius son, or at least one who did not fall asleep at his desk after a mere half hour of studying.

I knew he meant well and just wanted to motivate me. Though it did little for my self esteem, I did want to reach you, and in order to do that, I knew I had to work harder. I did try my best, but it never seemed good enough. My tests always came back with red X's and question marks. My taijutsu was well below average, my ninjutsu and genjutsu barely average. It wasn't until we learned first aid that I found my calling. Learning medical jutsu in our third year at the Academy gave me confidence and a goal. The idea of fighting in the war never appealed to me, but the idea of saving lives was something I truly wanted to do. My parents were finally genuinely proud of me, instead of pretending my poor Academy grades weren't that important. I even dreamed of being on your team and saving your life, but that dream was still very far away.

Obito and I graduated the Academy five years after you left us. When we finally became genin, you had already been a chuunin for years. By that time, I knew Obito better than I knew you. Although he sat a few rows behind me, he always greeted me enthusiastically in the morning and often waited for me after class to walk me home. But he had competition - Gai also seemed to take a liking to me.

I remember one day, soon after you had left us, while I was walking home on my own, I felt someone following me. When I looked behind me, I saw Obito and Gai. They were trying to keep at least ten feet from me, but neither wanted to be behind the other. They looked like tentative rats who wanted the food in the trap, but neither wanted to take the first step.

I stopped abruptly and asked them, "Do you two live around here?"

"I, uh, not really, um, a bit further out, but I'm running an errand for my parents so I, uh, just happen to be going in your direction," Obito claimed. But I could see the flush of red from his lie.

"No, I'm just following you," Gai said honestly with his gap toothed grin. He did not seem smart enough to lie.

"Well, please don't," I said firmly and continued on my way.

A few steps later, I quickly turned my head. Gai had Obito in a headlock. Obito's face slowly turned a funny shade of blue. They stopped and stood shamefacedly when they saw me staring at them. I frowned at them and continued on my way, then stopped again to look behind me. I caught the two of them jostling for position again. It was as if we were playing a game of Green-Light-Go.

I did not have the courage to yell at them to leave me alone, so I just did my best to ignore them. I did not care for either of them, so after that I begged Kaori to walk with me, even though she lived in the opposite direction. How silly it all seems now.

I was soon rid of one of my unwanted suitors. Gai graduate a year after you did. He took what little he gleaned from you and worked hard everyday to improve, unlike Obito and I. Well, Obito tried, he really did, to a certain extent, but he became easily frustrated, unlike Gai who was optimistic that he could reach you. His positive attitude and determination never waned. I remember Gai running and jumping farther than anyone else, walking around the yard on his hands, performing all sorts of acrobatics, like a monkey hyped up on caffeine. I think he was trying to do his best at what he could do, smartly, instead of trying to be a jutsu expert like you. As the war continued, they needed more and more recruits, dipping further and further down to younger and younger students. Daikoku sensei recommended him for his enthusiasm and hard work, aspects Obito and I both lacked - me in great abundance.

It took Obito and I a few more years to graduate. It took us much longer to find our paths. I found it in medicine while Obito, inspired by Gai's example, concentrated on his taijustu when he could not activate his sharingan. The war continued with lulls in between, which I always hoped would be permanent. During the peaceful times, my father and mother stayed home with me, trying their best to encourage me and help with my training. I treasured those short periods when I had both my parents with me. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and that was certainly true. If I had had both my parents pressuring me to do well at the Academy all the time, I would have surely resented them.

But the year before I graduated the Academy, something happened. I know you don't like to talk about your father and I never mentioned this to you before... Did you know that my father was on your father's team that day?

My father and the rest of the team fell into a trap laid by the enemy. Instead of continuing the mission and warning Konoha, your father broke them out, wasting valuable time. The enemy was able to conduct a surprise attack on our main frontlines and many troops died.

But what should he have done? It was for certain that if he did not save his men, they would die. If he saved them, there was still a chance he had enough time to issue the warning. I would have taken the gamble, especially if you were the one in the trap.

But my father did not see it that way. The deaths of so many weighed heavily on him and he transferred his guilt to anger towards your father. No, not guilt, but grief. My mother was one of those lost in the surprise attack. She was among the reinforcements. Her death hit him hard even though as a shinobi, he should have been prepared for it. But I guess no one is really prepared to lose the one he or she loves.

I remember feeling nothing, as if the pain was so deep it transcended all human emotion. My father cried more than I did at the memorial service. He, a broad strong man, reduced to a helpless child. I became his support. He changed after that. Or rather, his flaws and weaknesses all surfaced, so many that I never realized.

I always felt I was weak - too sympathetic, too trusting, too sentimental. I would shed tears at the most cliché stories, whenever I saw an injured animal, whenever I heard a mournful tune. I looked up to my parents, presuming them to be strong all the time. After all, they had been fighting in the war for so long. They must have witnessed countless deaths – both enemies and comrades. But I learned then that everyone had their breaking point, and not everything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

My father was taken off missions for a while, though he had not wanted any time off. This gave him time to brood. He was the one who hounded your father, reporting him to the Hokage, telling everyone who would listen, never letting him forget how his decision killed my mother and so many others. Instead of being on his side, I was ashamed of him. From then on, our relationship was strained. He could not understand my silence, my refusal to take his side.

Our relationship deteriorated after your father's death. I could not even look at him. Nor could he face himself. He did not wish for your father's death. He just needed a scapegoat - someone to blame, someone to focus his anger and grief. When your father killed himself, my father lost his focus. I was not surprised when he died on his next mission. I think he wanted to join my mother as soon as he could.

Did you know your father was responsible for my father's life and my mother's death? Because of your father's decision, my father lived. Because of your father's decision, my mother died. But in the end they all died. All because of an impossible decision.

All this time that I've known you, you've never once mentioned your father. Were you proud of him? Were you ashamed of him? I think you should be proud of your father, proud to be his son. He did what he felt was right - from his heart. He lived and ended his life honorably. How many of us can say the same? I'm not sure I can.

I've long forgiven my father for his flaws, for being human, not the strong hero of my ideal. But I've never been able to forgive him for leaving me alone. I think he sought death, forgetting that he had a daughter who needed him. I was so young then, and so were you.

I forgave your father for my parents' deaths, but have you forgiven him? Not for the decision that nearly destroyed the village, but for taking his own life. Can you forgive him for leaving you alone?

All those years on our own, like so many others. We know what loneliness is, don't we?

-...-...-...-


End file.
